


The Bawd of Avon

by Willa Shakespeare (AnonEhouse)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M, Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-17 16:43:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Willa%20Shakespeare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feeling playful, Avon decides to have sex with Blake while speaking ONLY lines from the works of Shakespeare.</p><p>*yes, that sound you hear is the playwright turning over in his grave*</p><p>(I would add William Shakespeare as co-author, but I think that's too cruel.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bawd of Avon

**Author's Note:**

> I like puns. My old B7 nom de plume, Willa Shakespeare, refers to the fact that Avon was my favorite character, so I was 'The Bard of Avon'... unless I was writing smut in which case I was 'The Bawd of Avon'.
> 
> 'Here will be an old abusing of God's patience and the king's English.'  
> This was supposed to be a simple, 'quote from Shakespeare' meme. All Avon's dialogue was ripped, screaming in horror, from Shakespeare quotes.

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

Naked, Avon stared at Blake. "My tongue will tell the anger of mine heart, Or else my heart, concealing it, will break." 

Blake looked at Avon in bemusement. "Shakespeare? You're really going to quote Shakespeare while we have sex?"

Avon nodded. "Why then tonight let us assay our plot." He looked at Blake's crotch. "My words fly up, my thoughts remain below."

Blake shrugged. Avon was strange; there was no getting around that. All Jenna demanded were cowboy boots and champagne. He began massaging his cock.

Avon licked his lips. "What a piece of work is man! A horse! A horse!" He reached out to fondle Blake's balls. "Why, then the world's mine oyster which I with sword will open.."

With great difficulty, Blake refrained from laughing, pulled Avon down onto the bed and swatted him on the arse.

"O, it is excellent to have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant."

Blake sighed, and pulled away.

Avon rolled his eyes at Blake. "Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose that you resolved to effect."

Blake bit his lip, pulled Avon over his lap and spanked him.

Head down, Avon declaimed into the duvet. "Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently. For in the very torrent, tempest, and as I may say, whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness."

Blake growled. "If you keep topping from the bottom, I'll go right off you."

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments: love is not love which alters when it alteration finds."

"Does that mean you'll shut up and let me fuck you my way?" Well, there was a first time for everything and Blake was an optimist. 

Avon grinned upside-down and wriggled his arse. "The better part of valor is discretion, in the which better part I have saved my life."

Blake was suspicious. He was also randy as hell; the little bugger was infuriating, but also extremely sexy. 

"Is whispering nothing?" 

Blake looked at Avon dubiously. "Is that Shakespeare?"

"I cannot tell what the dickens his name is. What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

Blake gave up; there was no point in accusing Avon of having made a mistake. A playful Avon in his bed was exasperating, a sulky Avon in the same place was likely to be emasculating. "All right, I believe you." He caressed Avon's flushed warm arse. "Had enough of this?"

"The quality of mercy is not strain'd; it droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: It blesseth him that gives and him that takes. 'T is mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes the throned monarch better than his crown; his sceptre shows the force of temporal power."

"My 'sceptre' is getting impatient." 

"How poor are they that have not patience." Avon scrambled off Blake's lap and turned around to guide Blake's cock to his mouth. "Is this a dagger which I see before me, the handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee! Where the bee sucks, there suck I." He licked the head and grinned. "O happy dagger!" He engulfed the head and sucked for a moment before pulling off to murmur, "That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man if with his tongue he cannot win a woman."

Blake rolled his eyes at the 'woman'. "You could paraphrase."

"Blow, blow, thou winter wind; thou art not so unkind, as man's ingratitude. Thou art the Mars of malcontents." Avon backed up slightly and held his cock against Blake's. "This is the short and the long of it." 

Blake knew Avon was angling things to flatter, but still, he was pleased that Avon made the effort. "How about a little '69' first?"

"What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine." Avon released Blake's cock, lay down and waited until Blake had arranged himself comfortably. He pumped Blake's cock a few times, admiring the result. "Glory is like a circle in the water, which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, till by broad spreading it disperses to naught."

"If I come in your mouth and haven't anything left, you know you'll regret it." Blake reached around to push a fingertip into Avon's arse, noting the slickness. Good the lube was still holding up.

Avon nodded. "This is the third time; I hope good luck lies in odd numbers. There is divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death." He wriggled on Blake's finger. "This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, may prove a beauteous flower when next we meet."

Blake nearly choked on Avon's cock. "Keep this up you little bastard, and I will bite you."

"I understand a fury in your words, but not the words. Thy words, I grant are bigger, for I wear not my dagger in my mouth."

Blake glared at Avon, and pulled off entirely. "You don't?"

"I am not bound to please thee with my answers." But Avon did look slightly rueful at his choice of quote. "Though I am not naturally honest, I am so sometimes by chance." In silent apology he took Blake in his mouth again and sucked. 

Blake moaned and quickly resumed licking and sucking Avon, until the bitterness of pre-come told him Avon was as close to the edge as he was. Panting, he pulled away again. "Avon?"

Avon, with a look of reluctance in his eye, sat up, releasing Blake's cock. He licked his lips. "We have some salt of our youth in us." 

Unable to resist that soft mouth, Blake got up and pulled Avon into his arms.

"The fringed curtains of thine eye advance." Avon accepted Blake's kiss and said softly, "Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul, but I do love thee! And when I love thee not, chaos is come again."

Blake smiled; he was beginning to think that Avon had insisted on this game only in order to be able to use the word 'love'. 

Avon added hastily, "Be great in act, as you have been in thought." He stroked Blake's spine. "He hath borne me on his back a thousand times. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. For 'tis the sport to have the engineer hoist with his own petard."

Blake smiled. "Well, perhaps not a thousand times." He kissed Avon again, and rubbed against him, pressing him back to lie on the bed. "I want you."

"The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords, in such a just and charitable war." Avon stroked his own cock and then lifted his knees. "Lay on, Macduff, And damn'd be him that first cries, 'Hold, enough!' By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes. Open, locks, whoever knocks! 

Blake put Avon's knees over his shoulders and sheathed himself, working hard to give his all to Avon.

Avon gasped. "Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge." When Blake paused, Avon added, "Asses are made to bear." He put his hands on Blake's arse. "Let me have men about me that are fat."

Blake grinned. In addition to being a size-queen, Avon had a bear-fixation. "Fat, am I?" He grunted with the effort of his shove into Avon.

"Since you know you cannot see yourself, so well as by reflection, I, your glass, will modestly discover to yourself, that of yourself which you yet know not of." Avon looked up into Blake's eyes. "Your face is a book, where men may read strange matters. He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again.  My meaning in saying he is a good man, is to have you understand me that he is sufficient."

Blake laughed. "Sufficient?" He pounded Avon's arse hard.

Avon clawed at Blake's back and groaned. "Their understanding... begins to swell and the approaching tide... will shortly fill the reasonable shores."

Blake pulled all the way out and hesitated, dripping cock an inch from Avon's arse, mostly to prove to himself that he could stop.

Avon performed a few butt-clenches, without even the flight-deck excuse of 'preserving his circulation'. "Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Then imitate the action of the tiger: Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood."

Blake moaned and slammed back into Avon, thrusting hard and fast.

Avon gasped, and fought to get out the words, "And many strokes... though with... a little axe..." He moaned. "Hew down and... fell the hardest-timbered oak." Avon writhed on Blake's cock and said softly, "I am dying, Egypt, dying."

Blake reached between and grabbed Avon's cock. Two quick pumps with his hand, along with two sharp thrusts up Avon's arse and...

"Et tu, Brute!" Avon shouted and came, flopping limply back on the bed while wearing a ridiculous smile. Eyes shut, he murmured, "I have a kind of alacrity in sinking."

Blake grunted and held back for a little while, because he loved to watch the well-fucked look on Avon's face and listen to the soft grunts Avon made as he was used for Blake's pleasure, but all the teasing had eroded his stamina, and Blake shouted and came. After a moment, Avon pushed at Blake, and he pulled out and lay on one side, drawing Avon into his arms.

Avon squirmed, and brushed fastidiously at the come dabbling in his chest hair. "All that glisters is not gold."

Blake sighed and wiped Avon's chest with the sheet. "Sleep with me?"

Avon shook his head. "I would fain die a dry death." He scowled and shifted away from the come leaking from his arse into the sheets."Out, damned spot! out, I say! Our revels now are ended."

"Well, if you're going to quote Shakespeare all night..." Blake got up and rubbed at his face. "All right." He held out his hand to Avon.

"It is not enough to help the feeble up, but to support him after." Avon clung to Blake with a weakness Blake doubted, but he relished the opportunity to hold his 'opponent' tenderly. Avon whispered in Blake's ear. "He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf. "

Blake smiled. "Isn't that how man's best friend was first created?"

Avon smiled back. "Give me my robe, put on my crown." He dressed swiftly once Blake handed him his clothes. "Farewell! Thou art too dear for my possessing." Avon went to the door, opened it, and then glanced back at Blake, grinning wickedly. "Exit, pursued by a bear."

The pillow Blake threw landed with a soft thump against the closed door, and the laughter he heard was only in his imagination.


End file.
